The night is a mistress of life. It is the hardest time to be alive for, those silent hours bring forth Melancholic air and scandalous actions. In its prime it feeds off of the secrets, schemes and lies made within it, knowing it was only a matter o...
"The strength of a family, like the strength of an army, is in its loyalty to each other." -Mario Puzo
NEW YORK, NEW YORK NOVEMBER
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I think he knows.
Our kitchen is a mess; with pots scattered around every countertop, the air is warm, filled with the aromas of baked goods and coffee. It's wrecked. But I can't find it in me to care right now.
His body feels like a furnace, holding me up, his warmth radiates from his bare chest onto my back. It makes me feel like I'm at home and I can't stop my eyes from glossing over with the heaviness of want and love.
A sigh of relief filters out of me, as Luca presses a kiss on my neck. Then another. And another. Soft kisses move up my skin until his lips reach the sensitive flesh beneath my earlobe.
Lifting my hands above my head, my fingers make a home in his hair and my heart is beating so much faster now. Licking down my neck, his right hand pushes the straps of my night-gown down my shoulders. The satin material slides off my body onto the floor and a feverish heat spreads across my skin. I inhale deep to attempt to regulate my breathing but it's useless. The tips of his fingers brush across my nipples, slowing to feel how they've peaked, Luca tugs at them.
My grip tightens and any chance I had at steadying my breaths are gone, because his left hand is between my legs. I can't do anything other than pant and moan and cry, as his finger pumps in and out of me. He's a master at this. To have one hand moving all over me and be deliberate. Slow enough to tease but still precise on where I'm touched... And to have his other hand angled in the perfect position to stroke my aching clit while finger-fucking me. It's maddening.
"God damn."
I'm not sure who spoke. Flutters of lust grow and swirl around in my belly, multiplying with each passing second. I can't help but use what space between us to rock against hand, chasing the high that's promised.
"That's it." He grunts out, curling his fingers inside me. Feeling his unsteady breaths on the back of my neck, a shaky moan leaves me and I clench around him, rocking faster. "I want you to make a fucking mess, Birdy."
It's almost like a sensory overload, but I can't stop. Not when I can taste it on my tongue. Like a thirst I can't quite quench and I'm suffocating in a desire that's so addicting.
"Do you hear it? How wet you are for me..." His nose presses into my hair as he breathes me in before he moves to press his lips to my cheek, then my neck and back to my ear and mumbles, "Your tight cunt is dripping me, so eager for more. I know you're gonna cum. Aren't you, sweet girl?"
I nodded, unable to tell him.
"If I could I'd spend all day and night doing this with you."
"Please," I beg. I'm not even sure what for but all I know is that I want more. "Ah, fuck."
